


sugar cone

by canadino



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3634866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Aomine works in an ice cream parlor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sugar cone

“So can I try the chocolate fudge banana flavor?” **  
**

It was happening. The boy was talking to him. Aomine had tried really hard not to stare when he had come in, but it was like someone screaming into a crowded classroom I’m naked, don’t look! and Aomine was a pervert, sort of, at heart. Thursday evenings were slow and it was that sweet time between late lunches and the end of the workday when very few people came into the ice cream parlor and Aomine spent most of his time staring at all the flavors and thinking about how wonderful an invention this was, flavored and colored ice and milk, which gave him a job. He was just pondering the combinations of nuts and chocolate in Rocky Road when the bell to the door jingled and he allowed one more second to gaze at the soft browns and whites of the marshmallows before looking up to say welcome. The boy who came in said hi in a distracted voice and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and Aomine was transfixed. The ice cream parlor was in a trendy section of the city and so it wasn’t unusual for there to be beautiful people wandering in and out holding cones and smoothies and smiling with straight white teeth. Aomine was an appreciator of beauty, among other things. The boy had a face perfectly set, from the space between his eyes to the length of his cheekbones. Girls really liked eyes - or at least Momoi said so - because they could gaze into them for hours but Aomine nodded at a shapely nose. They contrasted against his, which was flat and a little fat. Anyway, this boy had a good nose. His hair was a little too bright gold to be completely natural, but it worked somehow, and Aomine kept pretending he was washing out the scoops and aligning the wax paper for the waffle cones but he was sneaking peeks at the boy who was gazing at all his options from behind the glass counter. 

“Yeah, sure,” Aomine said. He took a white plastic sample spoon and dipped it into the chocolate fudge banana nut. Protocol dictated that samples were only to cover the customer’s tongue and leave them wanting more, but Aomine felt a strange sense of purpose as he dug out a generous spoonful. “Here.” 

The boy put the spoon in his mouth and kept it there as he continued down the line, his eyes tracing every flavor name. Aomine fidgeted behind the counter for no real reason. “Okay,” the boy said. “I’ll have the chocolate fudge banana in a waffle cone.”

Their fingers touched as Aomine handed over the cone, single scoop, and again when he handed the boy change. “Thank you so much,” the boy said, in a voice that sounded like he practiced being charming even if it came easy. He did not look back once as he weaved between the empty tables and chairs and as the door closed behind him, the bell signaling his departure. 

“Your bias is showing, Aomine,” Kuroko said. 

“Is it?” When you had been friends with Kuroko for as long as Aomine had been - and it had only taken a mere two years after he had considered them so that Kuroko had also acknowledged him as a friend - you no longer became surprised at how Kuroko could come up behind you and speak plainly without ever even signalling that he was there or even approaching. In kindergarten, Kuroko told the class that his family came from a lineage of ninjas, which was why he learned to be stealthy since he could walk and why he often scared the girls at the art corner. Aomine knew this as a way to keep the others at bay but it had backfired when the boys in the class began insisting he teach them how to be stealthy too and Kuroko spent most of his time hiding in the library afterwards. Kuroko was perched on the stool behind the cash register, the blue apron part of their uniform bunched around his waist. It occurred to Aomine that, since the manager had designated Kuroko to perpetual cashier duties after frequent complaints that he was giving customers critical looks over their choices of ice cream flavors, since he had gone to ring up the boy’s order, he had probably inadvertently pushed Kuroko out of the way in the process. “Sorry, by the way.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it was disgusting, that display you did there, but I understand that these things come hard for you.” The bait was dangling in front of his face and since the manager was in his office and there was no one in the store, Aomine grabbed at it.

“What things?”

“Social niceties and flirtation.” It took skill to differentiate between when Kuroko was being genuinely cruel and when he was being himself. But Aomine had learned after years of observation that Kuroko tailored his treatment of others based on how he gauged they could take it. For those whom he openly disliked, the gloves were always off. To those whom he tolerated on a regular basis - and these were many - he offered frequent backhanded comments with a blank look in his eyes. To those like Aomine, he hit below the belt but with no malice, like a play-fighting cat. For those like Momoi, he treated well and it was a privilege. Aomine figured this was why Momoi always had a soft spot for Kuroko in the way she didn’t really for himself. 

The door opened and the bell rang again, although the face that came in was familiar. Kagami Taiga - the darling of the school’s basketball team and the one who was expected to take them to regional greatness. Back when Aomine had still been on the team before he decided team practices were not this thing and he would play what he loved on his own time, he acknowledged Kagami’s skill and prowess, all of which was nothing to laugh about. Kagami was the type of man to take it to the next level on the court and held the door for the person behind him and continue holding it for the person behind the person behind him who was several feet away. There was nothing particularly stupid about him even if tended to underperform in class, but he appreciated the simple things like good sneakers and a good meal. He and Aomine had compared kicks during their first meeting and it was only natural to progress from there. “It’s hot as hell out there,” Kagami said when he reached the counter. “Can I have a free cone?”

“That could get us both fired,” Aomine said in his best Midorima voice.

“I was just kidding,” Kagami said quickly, completely missing the point. “Don’t do that if it’s going to be bad for you.”

“I’ll get you a sample,” Kuroko offered, his voice changing considerably. There was no hint of hidden meanness or suggestion that there was a trap hidden that would spring if words were chosen unwisely. He slipped off the stool and made his way to the freezers. “Which would you like?”

“Vanilla bean.” It was a flavor so appropriate for Kagami, although Aomine did not miss that it was also Kuroko’s favorite. Kuroko spooned out approximately the same amount for Kagami that Aomine remembered getting for the boy. “When’s your shift over today?”

“Six.” Kagami was the only person who could make Kuroko want to be a better person. Since the time they had begun dating, Kuroko smoked less, swore less, and held his tongue in moments that Aomine was sure he would not have before. It was honestly amazing. The only time Aomine had ever seen Kuroko crying was after Kagami had asked to go steady, because he was happy and afraid, for so many reasons but mostly because Kagami knew what kind of person he could be and still wanted to be with him. Afterwards, when Kuroko had recomposed himself, he had threatened Aomine with imminent death should he breathe word about it to anyone even Momoi. The thought still made him shudder. 

“Great,” Kagami said around the spoon in his mouth. “I’ll pick you up here then.”

“Don’t,” Kuroko warned when Kagami left and Aomine was resisting a face-breaking grin. “Don’t give management another reason to fire me.”

[=]

The boy came again two days later when Aomine was about to finish a shift and Kuroko was taking a break in the backroom. Aomine practically leapt to the ready, although the boy did not ask for a sample and only ordered a chocolate cone. The shortened interaction disheartened Aomine somewhat, enough he was even more taken aback when the paid with a card, jet black, and Aomine saw his chance. 

“Uh,” he said. “Can I see that card?” It had gone through and it was a completely transparent ploy, but Kuroko had said things like this came hard for him. The boy gave him the card and Aomine read, under the jumble of numbers, a name - Kise Ryouta. “Thanks....uh, if you’ll sign here.” Kuroko would never let him live this down but Aomine felt like he needed to tell someone. Momoi would laugh, probably less than Kuroko. Was he too obvious? The boy - Kise, he supposed - did not seem too fazed; in fact, he signed the receipt with a flourish and left immediately. He felt the sting of rejection and disappointment, but noticed, under the flashy signature, a note: 

[That was completely obvious but I was going to do it anyway. XXXXXXX]

“Should I call or message?” Aomine asked, abandoning all dignity and possible future shame. 

“You are pathetic,” Kuroko said, careful to separate his words with enough space between them to maximize their effectiveness. “Why does it matter? Apparently he sees more in you than just the guy scooping ice cream so you’ve got that going for you.” Kuroko was distracted, texting Kagami based on how quickly he was responding and the way he was looking at his phone. 

“I could call,” Aomine said. “But what if he’s not a talkative person? What if he doesn’t like talking on the phone? But isn’t messaging a little impersonal?” He scratched his head. “But I guess calling puts him on the spot and I can make sure I don’t forget anything in a text. What should I say about myself?”

“Everything,” Kuroko suggested, tapping away at his phone. “Your name, your grade, your favorite sport, your favorite flavor. Hell, ask him his too.” Aomine was done with his shift for the day and Kuroko was milking every last second of his break. 

“Okay,” Aomine said. “He says he’s also a junior, he likes basketball, and he likes pear flavored soda.”

“I can’t believe you actually did what I said.”

“He also asked when he could see me outside of work.” Aomine looked up at Kuroko, eyes boggled. “What should I say?”

“You know your own schedule, not me.” Two days later, when Aomine was off work, he ran home and rummaged through his closet for his nicest shirt. First dates were first impressions and first impressions were critical. He would never forget Midorima as the dork who introduced himself with a shoelace around his wrist, with which he would claim was for luck, and then shouted his greeting to the class to demonstrate his sincerity. He figured that was why Midorima had been made class president and spent most of his time sitting in the music room complaining about his responsibilities to other type A people. When Momoi finally caught up with Aomine after he had dashed off ahead of her, she found him crumpled on the floor of his closet, buried in hangers and sweaters.

“Help,” he whined.

Momoi had good fashion sense, but Kise seemed to transcend even her good eye. Aomine thought he looked pretty fetching already, more than usual at least with her help, but Kise walked up to him looking like he had come out of a clothing catalogue, and not just the catalogue for a joint in the local mall but a catalogue with glossy pages and ones that you needed to sign up for credit cards and email lists for. What he was wearing was undoubtedly off the rack - not tailored like the darling of Akashi corporation who went home in black cars and looked indignant about the whole ordeal - but he paired it well with aesthetically pleasing color combinations and a nice watch with a black leather strap. 

“Hi,” Kise said.

“Hi,” Aomine said. “You’re hot.” It slipped out before he could stop himself but honesty was one of his more favorable traits, really. 

“Um,” Kise said, laughing a little. “Thanks. You’re not too bad looking yourself.” Aomine felt his pride swell a little. “Look, I, uh,” he said, his fingers intertwining into themselves until he finally clasped his hands together. “I don’t really do this very often.”

“I didn’t think you did!” Aomine said. It seemed like a strange thing to say, but then again, most people he associated with were generally herbivores (he considered Kuroko, who had sat and stared at his phone for hours after he and Kagami had exchanged numbers early on). He was a herbivore too, sometimes, although Momoi preferred to call him dense. “I mean, I’m glad you did though.” 

Kise gave him a sweet smile, although still a little anxious, and Aomine wondered where he learned to cock his head like that and look up at people with his eyes all doe-like. It looked petty and ridiculous when Momoi did it and he laughed at her every time until she resorted to force to get her way but he was pretty sure Kise could get anything he wanted from him with it. Maybe it was rose colored glasses. Aomine grinned back, because he was a guy who smiled when smiled at. 

Aomine did, eventually, understand what Kise was talking about regarding not doing something often, because he found himself, after catching a movie and having lunch and having the strange, inexplicable urge to buy matching phone straps for the two of them, sitting on a bed in a nice hotel with flowers in the lobby as Kise was taking off his shirt. “Uh,” Aomine said, “what are we doing?”

Kise stared at him. “Aren’t we going to sleep together?”

“That’s,” Aomine said, “that’s nice, I guess, I mean, well, I didn’t think that was going to come until later. As in not even today. I guess.”

“Oh.” Kise stopped taking off his shirt. Their jackets were lying on the floor. Aomine wasn’t sure what he was thinking was going to happen when Kise led him into the hotel in the first place, only he was amazed because he’d never set foot in a hotel in the city and spent his time in the hallway gazing at the wallpaper and light fixtures as Kise pulled him along, his hand in his. They’d started kissing the moment Kise closed the door behind him and Aomine was pleasantly surprised. “I thought this was what today was about.”

“Oh,” Aomine parroted. “I mean, I don’t really mind, I guess, but you don’t really look that into it.” The kissing had been nice and enthusiastic, but the way Kise was shucking off his clothes with an expression that he was just going through the motions didn’t sit well with Aomine. “I want to do it with you, but not unless you want to do it too.”

“Everyone usually just wants to have sex,” Kise said. “I didn’t think you were any different.” He sat back, his buttons undone until right above his belly button. “I don’t mind having sex with you either but just not today.”

“I don’t even know you that well. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Not really.” 

Aomine considered this. They were now just sitting and facing each other with their clothes all wrinkled and messy. “I always thought it would just happen, like...a while after we started dating.”

“You want to date me?”

“Yeah. Unless you didn’t want to date me and just wanted this instead. I guess I’d be sad, then.” 

Kise ran a hand through his hair. Even rumpled, he still looked pretty attractive. “I don’t know about dating you,” he said. “But I guess we could see. Like you said, I’ve only really known you for a few hours at most.”

“Yeah,” said Aomine. “No rush.” He started to straighten his shirt again. It felt very anticlimactic and totally dull. Kise watched him for a moment. 

“Well,” Kise said finally, “I booked this room and I’m going to take a nap. I finished a photoshoot before meeting with you so I’m a little exhausted.” Of course, Aomine thought. It only made sense that Kise was also a teen model. He wondered how he could brag about getting to second place with a teen model. Kise began to crawl underneath the covers.

“Should I go? I wouldn’t do anything if I stayed but whatever you’re cool with.”

Kise’s chin was covered by the sheets. He hadn’t taken off his watch. “If you wanted to do anything, you wouldn’t have stopped me. I don’t mind if you stay or not. And I can change my mind later or we can make out if you want when I wake up.”

“Sweet.” Aomine wondered for a second before lying down next to Kise. He really wasn’t feel too tired at the moment and stared up at the ceiling until he heard Kise’s breathing slow down. It didn’t really matter to him whether they made out or not afterwards. Staring at the ceiling and thinking about nothing was soothing. Then, on a whim, he looked over and looked at Kise’s arm, thrown casually over his waist. Aomine sat up and stared at it some more. Carefully, he lifted Kise’s wrist and laid his arm at his side. He waited a moment to make sure Kise did not stir before lying back down. He waited another moment more before reaching over and taking Kise’s hand, feeling a sense of accomplishment holding it in his own. 

“Dork,” Kise murmured, half asleep, and he did not let go. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you enjoyed.


End file.
